


Someday My Prince Will Come

by Psuedo_sweetheart



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fairy Tale Parody, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedo_sweetheart/pseuds/Psuedo_sweetheart
Summary: Even though Aya is dressed up as Cinderella for Halloween, she certainly didn’t expect to meet Prince Charming.  And once she did, she certainly didn’t expect how it all ended, but maybe she should have.  But then again, who the hell expects their life to turn into a fairy tale?
Relationships: Ayame Ikeda/Traveler
Kudos: 3





	Someday My Prince Will Come

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the world needed more Ayame content and this story literally just popped into my head in all it's ridiculous glory. I hope someone gets a kick out of reading it- I had fun writing it. XD

It’s Halloween, and even though she’s on Goldis instead of somewhere way more fun, Aya is having a good time. It’s her night off, and she’s on the dance floor, boogieing down with the best of them, when she feels eyes on her. Well, _lots_ of eyes are on her, but this set of eyes has a heavier gaze, something that makes her turn and look. 

Standing awkwardly at the side of the dance floor, is a guy wearing a Prince Charming costume that matches her slapped together, and rather risque, Cinderella get up. A frankly, gorgeous, guy- not ridiculously tall, like most of the guys she seems to know, with plush lips, perfect for sinking teeth into. 

Aya grins and beckons him closer. 

His friend, dressed up in one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes, shoves him at her, cackling loudly.

“As your wingman, I insist you go dance with naughty Cinderella. She looks like she might be interested in your sword.”

The ‘prince,’ flushes, and ducks his head as he responds in a scandalized whisper, but Aya just laughs as she walks closer and grabs his hand; noticing as she does, that there actually _is_ a sword strapped to his hip, and it’s either real, or a well-made replica.

“I might be,” she teases. She bows over his hand in an exaggerated motion, “May I have this dance, my prince?”

There’s still pink, dusted along the ‘prince’s’ cheekbones, but he manages a smile, grasping her hand more firmly and returning the bow. 

“I would be honored, my lady.”

His friend whoops, slapping him on the back and promptly abandoning him with nothing more than a loudly whispered, ‘good luck.’ 

Prince Charming shakes his head, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his dark, glossy, hair, before apparently remembering it was styled, and dropping it with a grimace.

“I apologize for him. He keeps telling me he was raised by wolves and I’m starting to believe him.” 

He’s still plenty flushed, and Aya snickers as she grabs his other hand, drawing him with her as she steps backward onto the dance floor.

“No need to apologize.”

They situate themselves together, Prince Charming watching her closely, quite obviously new to this sort of dancing. He’s a bit stiff in his movements, but eases into it well enough that Aya doesn’t have to take drastic measures to save her toes. 

“So what brought you to this part of Silta Vie, your majesty? Aren’t your kind usually cooped up in the palace?”

He looks both surprised and confused for a moment, and Aya almost laughs again. Did he think she was being serious? That’s weird. But cute. And Aya loves, weird but cute.

“I was curious how my constituents celebrated this quaint holiday,” he finally responds.

He plays the part of hoity-toity, blue-blood, way better than she expected, his eyebrow slightly arched, voice a cultured drawl, and a _slight_ curl of an arrogant smirk at the corner of his lips. 

Aya smirks as well as she pulls away from him, running her hands down her body as she shimmies, the fake, blue satin, of her dress glinting in the club’s lights.

“And what do you think of it so far?” 

His gaze is locked onto the movement of her hips, rather then her chest, and Aya is a little surprised, but still pleased, particularly when he swallows thickly, and has to clear his throat before he manages to answer.

“Uh… it’s been… pretty, fucking fantastic, so far.”

Aya grins. So far, she’s gotten him to tease, and also stammer and swear. She agrees with his assessment that things are going pretty, fucking fantastic. She swings back into his reach, and his hands settle on her hips. 

He glances down at her face, his expression asking her if it’s okay, and Aya grins as she wraps her arms around his neck, once again appreciating his lack of ridiculous tallness. 

He returns her smile, his fingers tightening and pulling her closer.

“As charming as the name Prince Charming is, what _is_ your name, handsome?”

“It’s Kris. I’m guessing yours isn’t Cinderella either.”

“It’s Ayame, but I go by Aya.”

“That’s a lovely name- Ayame.”

It’s a genuine compliment, she can tell by how that flush is back on his face, less intense, but still there, and he can’t seem to quite meet her eye. Aya pauses, almost stumbling before she rights herself with an airy laugh, trying to will away a matching blush. Flattery and flirting are her bread and butter, but genuine compliments are a bit more rare in her experience.

“I am lovely in many, many, ways,” she winks. “So what do you do around here, Kris? I’m in the guard, so unless you’re from out of town, you aren’t.”

They’re still moving in tandem, and Kris is loosening up nicely, although he pauses briefly with a sad twist of a frown, at her question. 

“I do this and that,” he mumbles, “My family is very… controlling.”

“Hmm…” Aya pretends to think very hard, “Evasive answer, controlling family… I know, you’re in the mafia!”

Kris bursts out laughing, and Aya is utterly delighted to find out he has dimples. Dimples! _Adorable_.

“I mean, you’re not entirely wrong, but I think you’ve watched too many old movies.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me things like that? I’m a guard,” Aya teases.

He just shrugs, still smiling wide, “Well, if you insist on investigating, I wouldn’t be averse to being handcuffed.”

His voice had gotten nervous as he’d dropped his line, his gaze unable to meet hers, as that cute blush started to reassert itself.

Aya realizes her jaw has dropped, and she snaps it shut, only to open her mouth again and laugh. 

“That was magnificent! Oh my god, thank you for sharing with the class, Mr. Kris Charming, the teacher is _very_ impressed.”

“Oh, so you’re a teacher now?”

He’s gone bold, voice low and eyes hooded as he smirks at her, his hands shifting a little lower and farther back, not quite enough to be ‘indecent,’ but certainly pushing at its borders. 

“I can be,” Aya murmurs, feeling a spark of smug glee as he leans closer to hear her, gaze lingering on her lips. “I am very, very, talented.”

He finally manages to tear his gaze away from her lips and warmth blossoms low in Aya’s belly as their eyes meet and catch. Something rises in the silence between them, something that doesn’t need words- the promise of passion, and… 

Aya bites her bottom lip as she sees something else in Kris’s eyes, something steady and serious and utterly focused on her in a way that excites her, even as she’s tempted to shy away from it in a way she never would with straight up seduction. 

Deciding she’s too intrigued to see where things could go between them, Aya opens her mouth to suggest they take their dancing, and possible handcuffed interrogation, somewhere more private, when a panicked, floppy-necked, dinosaur, shoves its way between them.

“Dude! We have to go. Now!”

They both rear back, and the dinosaur grabs Kris by the shoulders.

“They got tipped off that you’re missing somehow. We need to run.”

Before Aya can ask what the _hell_ is going on, the DJ’s voice reverberates through the club, yelling something about it being midnight, and the dance floor floods with an excited crowd. In between one blink and the next, there’s a dozen people between her and Kris. 

He’s waving at her as his friend drags him off, mouthing something she can’t hear over the sudden swell of music, or see through the flashing lights. 

Deciding enough is enough, and she’s going to get her damn prince, one way or another, Aya bulldozes through the crowd with liberal use of yelling and elbows, till she reaches the spot she last saw him. 

Kris is nowhere to be seen, but as she looks around, Aya spots an abandoned, shiny, black, shoe. _Prince Charming’s_ shoe.

Aya just stands there staring at it for a good minute.

Feeling like the planet has just wobbled on it’s axis, Aya sucks in a deep breath and releases it along with a disbelieving laugh.

“No, fucking, way.”


End file.
